Stress Baking
by ForTheLore
Summary: 5 Times Peter Stress Bakes Plus the One Time Tony Does it For Him.
1. Chapter 1

**Tony**

The first time the inventor even noticed the abundant amount of cupcakes showing up around his apartment, he had just binged a thirty six hour tech upgrade on FRIDAY. He had just finished configuring the update, ironed out all of the messed up coding that his tired brain had managed to slip in, and tested the firewall several times.

Because if Tony was anything, he was protective over his AI systems; Jarvis had been his caregiver emotionally for a longer time than he was comfortable admitting. Friday had taken to alerting Pepper when the man did something that was probably not the smartest. And Karen would alert him if Peter was in need, or if he had dome something so stupidly teenager-ish that he had reason to pause in his ministrations.

Such as the current time.

"Incoming transmission from Spiderling." Friday's voice buzzed through his lab. Her voice echoed on the vibranium walls, bouncing around Tony and covering him in a blanket that he always seemed to find himself missing at the worst of times. However, Tony could not, and would not, ignore the fondness that seemed to seep into her voice every time Peter was involved.

Even the artificial intelligence loved the kid.

Could he blame them though? It was hard not to enjoy Peter's positivity, and the energy that seemed to ooze from his pores. It was contagious, and often made everyone in the room around him giggle at the antics that seemed to get him into trouble.

Such as the flour that Peter was currently trying to dust off his hands as he pounded eggs into the batter.

"Crud," he whispered as the white powder flew back into his face, nearly covering the goggles of his mask. Luckily, it was the only part of the suit that he was currently wearing; which lead Tony to believe he was either using Karen for a recipe—as he had before—or because the lights and sounds of New York were too much and starting to get to him. Either option was plausible with the way that his hands shook as he forced the beater down into the batter. "Crud, crud." Peter whined softly stepping back and coughing at the plume that exploded into his face. "Karen!"

"Sorry Peter," The AI hummed in amusement as the hologram minimized itself. "I was under the impression you knew how to bake."

"I do know..." Peter huffed petulantly. Tony snorted from his position in the lab, a fond smile working its way to his face.

"Kid if you call that baking, then I'd hate to see your cooking. Because that looks like failure in a bowl." A spike in the teen's readings told Tony that he was very much heard, and the silence at the other end told him that he was very much being ignored. Nothing something that sat very well with the inventor who was known around the world for his mind.

Not at all.

"Kid..." Tony hummed, his lips pursing into a thin line as he watched the footage freeze on the bowl in front of the powder covered kid. "What's going on?"

"Nothing." Peter muttered under his breath. In his vision, trembling hands settled the hand mixer on its base before jerking back.

"Don't lie to me." Tony sighed pinching the bridge of his nose. For his life, Tony loved Peter. He'd never admit it in front of the hundreds of cameras that were on him daily, but something about the never ending questions and the absolute awfulness of his klutzy habits, had grown on the older man.

"I'm just a little stressed is all, Mr. Stark." Peter's voice buzzed softly. The visual of his cam bounced erratically as the teenager pulled the mask off momentarily. "May...May is out on a date..." The petulant whine in his voice didn't fail to positively convey the adoration he felt for his aunt. "She's on a date, and asked me to stay in so she didn't have to worry. But I'm worried about her!"

"A date..." Tony pinched the bridge of his nose in an attempt to suppress a chuckle. He knew Peter was obsessively protective of his aunt. It was a trait shared, and dominated solely by the two people in their lives. "Kid...It's a date. Don't be surprised if she doesn't even come home tonight."

"What?!" Peter's voice easily hit ten octaves higher; it had hurt Tony's ears, leaving the older man to wonder how on earth Peter's ears didn't bleed on the regular from his tones. "No nonono! No, Mr. Stark, she has to come home! I have..." The kid keened at the back of his throat, and Tony so nearly laughed that it sent a pain jostling through his ribs.

The idea of May staying out of the house for more than seventeen hours was too much for the teenager to handle. His heart rate picked up significantly, and the powdered mess that was inside of the bowl exploded to cover the mask's lenses.

"I am so not paying for the dry cleaning if that gets stuck! Also watch out for the connectors! Your suite isn't made to handle whatever it is you're beating into that bowl!" Tony huffed, before guffawing as Peter visibly wiped the goop from the lenses. "What are you even trying to bake?"

"Brownies..." Peter sighed despondently—though there was nothing brownie or chocolatey about the concoction in front of him. Tony smiled fondly at the image before him. Peter had always been on hell of a kid, if the inventor did say so himself. He was overly affectionate, extremely hyper, and far too talkative. But it was all endearing to him really; it was pure.

"Kid...Doesn't brownies usually have chocolate?" Tony teased lightly, shaking his head at the exasperated groan that escaped Peter's lips. He was rewarded with an exasperated whine before the teenager slumped against the counter shoving his face into his hands. "Alright, calm down. I'll drop by the grocery...get some of those in the box things? Do you use those? I've never done them before...and we'll make them together."

"Y-you don't have to," Peter whispered softly.

"Kid...With the mess you're making...I think I should. I'm worried that if I let you continue baking you'll accidentally recreate the Blob." Tony chuckled as he jumped from his chair. If he were honest, he was probably looking for a reason to get out of his lab. Which was saying something; the inventor was notorious for locking himself inside the lab on any given day, for hours, sometimes days, on end. It was one of his guilty pleasures.

But the kid was a close second.

Tony found himself enjoying the time he was able to spend with Peter, and the kid's little quirks were always of amusement. He was falling head over heels for the teenager, and would want nothing more than to keep him in his life. The fact that it hadn't started out that way was of no difference to the man.

"Be there in like..ten. Where do I even buy the boxed stuff? FRIDAY?" Tony turned towards the roof glancing up at the receptor for his AI.

"At any corner store, boss." The AI almost giggled at the prospect of her creator swaying into some unfortunate store to pick up the boxed mixture. She would have to share the idea later with one Bruce Banner and James Rhodes. The message was up and off before Tony even thought of it.

"Lifesaver. Also, keep an eye on whatever gunk it is that the kid is making. I'm pretty sure if we leave it be long enough, it'll have it's own heartbeat." Tony hummed as he grabbed his hoodie from the coat rack, followed by one of the random car fabs lined up along the same piece of wood.

"Of course, boss! I'll alert Karen." FRIDAY hummed as she opened the elevator doors. Inside the metallic box, ACDC was already blaring, leaving the inventor with a pleased smile.

* * *

He didn't even make it to the corner store before some kind of tragedy struck. And not the tragedy as in someone died; but as in Peter called to alert him that he didn't have to go because…

Well, by that point Tony had stopped listening. The kid had been under the impression that Tony was forcing himself to hang out with him because of duty. Not true at all.

Tony had been bored in his own home; creator's block had settled in earlier in the day, and his mind couldn't even formulate the proper way to code the newest AI he was fiddling with. It was a small project that he and Peter had taken on together, but that Tony would work on in his spare time just to see the kid's eyes light up when he realized how far they were advancing.

"Mr. Stark, you really don't have to-"

"Kid...I am about to do the most embarrassing thing of my life. I am currently walking into...Dollar Tree? Seriously? That's a place? The dollar tree?" The kid chuckled on the other side. Tony could almost imagine him biting his lip as he tried to keep his giggles under control. "Anyway...to pick out some kind of brownie mixture because I can't cook, and apparently neither can you."

"I can too!" Peter squawked on the other side of the line. "I was doing just fine! I even added chocolate, so it's fine now!"

"Have you tasted it?"

"No...But Aunt May says it's not healthy to, because of the raw eggs!"

"Kid...That thing almost has a heart beat...I'm pretty sure I even saw egg shells in the mixture. Like..You cannot bake and wear the mask and not expect to mess up!"

"Egg shells!?" Peter squeaked. Tony guessed he was probably glancing down at the mixture I front of him. "No way," He whispered pathetically.

"They add texture," Tony scoffed softly as he grabbed several boxes from the shelf of the store. Ignoring the looks he garnered, he rushed to the front of the check out. The computers that served as registers made the genius cringe. It was as if he had stepped back in time to the early eighties. He was pretty sure his beeper actually had better RAM than whatever the miserable teenager in front of him was dealing with.

"Fifteen twenty-six," The kid sighed unamused with the technology in front of him. His fingers tapped across the keyboard, before the small verfione lit up in blue light. "Swipe." Tony simply nodded, sliding the magnetic strip of his card through the slot before following the prompts. The cashier arched his brow, handing him the reciept, never really sparing him a glance.

Tony was only slightly offended.

"Alright Underoos! I'm on my way," Tony hummed as he stepped out onto the busy sidewalks of New York. He was more than pleased to be swallowed by the buzzing chatter of the citizens as he pushed his way down cement walk ways towards the small apartment structure a few blocks down.

"I...Thank you Mr. Stark..." Peter mumbled into the mask. Tony could hear the embarrassment on his voice, and a warm feeling fluttered in his stomach.

This kid.

This kid was his.

"Hey kid," Tony hummed rapping his fingers on the door.

And he would be damned if he let anything happen to him.

Peter opened the door, shoulders slumped forward, head hung in defeat. Flour and lord only knows what covered his chest and t-shirt. A bark of laughter erupted from his throat as Peter keened slightly.

"Let's try and fix this, yeah?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Mr. Stark**

The second time that Tony caught his Spiderling attempting to bake a catastrophe, it was on a quiet Friday evening. He had managed to con the kid's aunt into letting him stay the weekend at the compound; which, he found out, she was actually rather happy to do. Turns out, May's friend had gotten them both appointments at a really nice spa (with absolutely no help from one Tony Stark. Nope. Not him.)

"Alright kid!" Tony hummed as they exited the lab. The kid had buzzed and buzzed, tinkered with small files that needed coding, and was barely keeping his eyes open. "I think it's time for you to get to bed." Tony chuckled draping his arm around the exhausted teenager. "We can reconvene in the morning."

Peter simply nodded, dragging a grease covered hand across his face. The streak left behind caused a fond smile to form on Tony's lips. He'd hold off on the black mail for now.

"Off to bed, kiddo." Tony patted his back and steered him towards the bathroom. Better him wash off now, than to sleep on some very expensive Egyptian cotton sheets and cover them in grease stains. Not that he couldn't afford a new pair, or thousands of new pairs. He'd like to replace them as few time as possible.

"Mhm," Peter forced through a yawn as he stumbled down the hall, clumsily putting one foot in front of the other. He disappeared into the bathroom seconds later.

Turning on the ball of his foot, Tony stepped into the kitchen, a sigh escaping his lips. The kid was turning him into a paternal mess, and it was showing. "Friday...vanilla coffee...stat please." The older man sighed settling himself at the counter. A hand brushed through messy locks as he leaned forward tugging a tablet towards himself. A small ping alerted him of an e-mail sent from his truly; Captain America, Steve Rogers. Aka: Captain Traitor.

"Great," He mumbled opening it with caution. The last time Steve had e-mailed him, there was a virus attached to an image link of a dancing elf that the super soldier had found copious amounts of joy in. Tony hadn't cursed and screamed at a program that much since his years at MIT. It was nostalgic to say the least.

And, after a several hour long phone call, Tony had managed to explain to Steve that it was really important to encrypt the messages he was sending so that if his computers ever got confiscated they couldn't link the messages.

But he never told the kid.

Peter didn't need to know; the kid had enough on his plate without the added bonus of Tony's drama with Steve.

"Mr. Stark?" A tired voice called from across the living room. Glancing up, a fond smile worked its way to the man's lips when he saw the bleary eyed teenager. His fist rubbed against his eyes as if he were trying to wipe away the sleep. Tony knew that if he gave Peter a reason to stay up, the kid would never get any rest. With that, would be a whiny and exhausted teenager, and a very unhappy May.

Tony was not about to risk dealing with an unhappy May Parker.

Woman was a force to be reckoned with.

Especially paired up with Pepper. And both women would absolutely agree that it would have been Tony's fault while they babied the mess out of Peter. And the kid would absorb it with apologetic eyes, and nervous glances.

And throughout it all, Tony wouldn't be unhappy. Exasperated? Definitely. Slightly more deaf for the matter? Most Certainly. But he would find a way to live and deal with it. If it meant keeping the kid around and in his life, he was more than okay.

"What's up, Underoos?" Tony hummed as he stood from the island. "You need to get some sleep kiddo. "

"Thanks," Peter mumbled groggily, a sincere smile graced his lips before he turned on his heel and started down the hall. Tony sighed heavily, a slight grin working its way to his face.

Yea, that was his fucking kid.

The following morning, Tony has Happy drive Peter home. The trip is silent, just as the older man likes it; the radio turned down (mostly for the kid's sake), and the window between the two cracked, but still with an air of privacy. The body guard glanced into his rear view mirror to check on his ward. Mostly, to make sure the kid wasn't planning some stupid movement, and then to see why on earth his mouth wasn't moving a million miles a minute. After all, when Peter Parker was quiet, trouble was on the horizon.

"What's going on kid?" Happy pursed his lips as he braked at a stop sign. New York city was chocked full of them—and red lights; the nemesis of the driver. Some days, he found himself wishing that Tony would just invent flying cars, similar to the Jetson's, and be done with it. Traffic would go down, and knowing the inventor, Tony could find a way to make them run cleaner than any vehicle on the road now. It would be a popular invention, and it would make his life that much easier.

"Nothing," Peter sighed heavily scrolling through his phone furiously. His lips were pursed in concentration as he memorized whatever was on the screen in front of him.

"If Tony was here, he would call you a liar." Happy barked as his eyes lazily wandered back up to the red light. "So, let's try that again. What's going on, kid?"

A soft groan escaped Peter's lips as he worried about the response Happy would have. The man wasn't exactly known for handling his antics to well, and Peter wasn't sure if it was worth bringing it up. He was pretty sure the guy would laugh it off, and then Mr. Stark would know, and shit. Peter was an adult, and he could handle his own problem.

As long as it didn't involve baking.

Or cooking of any kind really.

Nope, better to go ahead and ask for help.

"It's...Ned's birthday is tomorrow...and I kinda forgot, and usually I have May help me...bake him...a cake."

"Baking? You're worried about baking?" Happy guffawed, ignoring the honking behind him as the light turned green. If it were up to him, and if Tony Stark's name wasn't all over the expensive car he was currently driving, he would have had a few choice words for the civilians behind him.

"I know..." Peter groaned slipping down into plush leather seat.

* * *

It was almost six o'clock, and Tony's phone was absolutely silent—which was rather unnerving. Usually the kid was blowing his cellphone up by now; text messages of random memes that he found, and fun facts on the other avengers that he found amusing. And most of the time, Tony had saved them so he could tease the group with them later.

He was just debating on giving the kid a call when Friday lit up a screen in front of him with feed from the mask.

"I figured you would enjoy this, sir." FRIDAY snarked rather pleased with herself. Tony could almost hear the purr in her voice—too human.

"Hm," He glanced up to see Happy—his once bodyguard- covered in flour and staring at the kid as if he were crazy.

"No! You add the flour slowly, kid! Slowly!" Happy groaned dragging his hand over his face. The white powdery substance sloughed off in a cloud. "Also, there are still egg shells in the liquid mix! You have to—Not with your hands covered in flour! Who taught you how to bake!?"

"Hey!" May called from the background. The scene swirled before him as Pete focused on his aunt. "I resent that! My baking is fantastic!"

"Really?" Happy arched his brow and crossed his arms. "Really? Remember last week? I had food poisoning when I left here."

Last week? Tony's brow furrowed in confusion as he tried to remember sending Happy for the kid last week. But he had been rather silent, and Tony had been the one to make the trip out there with all the boxed goods.

You didn't have to eat three slices," May hummed a soft giggle on her voice. Peter groaned shaking his head.

"Guys...No. Don't remind me please!" Peter whined his shoulders slumping forward in defeat.

"Now now," May giggled stepping closer and glancing down at the mix. Her lips tugged to the side in doubt as she glanced at the concoction in the bowl. "What...uh...what exactly are you trying to make?"

"Red velvet! It's Ned's favorite...but..." Peter held the bowl up to glance down at the already thick mixture in the bowl.

"He hasn't even added the flour..." Happy sighed brushing a hand over his head, effectively covering that in flour as well.

And Tony couldn't help it.

He threw his head back in laughter at the whole scene before having Friday connect him to Peter's suit.

"Kid...Kid you can't," Tony snickered and giggled as the teenager jumped.

"M-Mr. Stark!?" He whined heavily glancing around the kitchen. "How...wha?"

"Spider mask, kiddo." Tony tried to reign in his laughter. "It contacts me every time…Are you trying to kill your friend?"

"No!" Peter's voice reached an octave it hadn't reached since his stint of puberty. "I..."

"Uh-huh….Well since Happy is still there, which by the way, we need to talk about that. What's going on with that, huh? Happy got the hots for Aunt Hottie?"

"Dude, not cool." Peter reached up for the mask as if to take it off.

"You disconnect me, and I will disconnect your suit for the next week!" Tony chirped crossing his arms.

"Tony...Leave the kid alone." Happy chuckled glancing at the kid with his brow raised.

"Tony?" May's head poked around her nephew and pursed her lips. Oh boy, he hadn't even done anything and she was already mad at him.

"FRIDAY, put me on speaker mode." The inventor hummed waiting for the beep to alert him that he could be heard by all of the occupants in the room. "Happy...go buy the kid a red velvet cake. As much as he can annoy me, I don't wish death upon Teddy."

"Can do. I'll hit up a bakery in the morning." Happy nodded crossing his arms over his burly chest.

"Also, call and set up some baking lessons for the kid. If this keeps up, a homeless person might just be hungry enough, and well..." Tony waved his hand flippantly. "Before that though," Tony leaned in a purr in his own voice as he grinned deviously at the screen. "Congratulations on landing a girlfriend."

The blush than arose on everyone's faces were priceless. Tony threw his head back and guffawed violently. His laughter caused his ribs to hurt, and he didn't even notice when the kid ripped his mask off his head effectively disconnecting them.

Because, for once, Tony was incredibly happy.


	3. Chapter 3

**Mr. Starky**

"Oh jesus, Oh no," Peter whined as he paced atop the roof of a low level building. Below, the city was bustling as busy shoppers rushed from one store to the next, arms addled with full shopping bags while their feet crushed through the snow. "Karen, tell me there's a joking emoji attached to the end of that, will you?" His fingers tapped anxiously against the tight spandex that lined his thighs.

" _I am afraid not, Peter."_ Karen hummed from inside of his mask. _"It seems as if Mr. Stark is adamant that you and Aunt May join him for the Gala this year."_

"No," Peter wheezed heavily and anxiously as he glanced at his watch. If he didn't start to head home soon, he would certainly be considered late. And if he was late, May would know. And May would tell Happy, who would then fuss Peter for it, and who would also tell Mr. Stark. And then, Mr. Stark would fuss at him, and he wouldn't catch a break.

" _Should I alert him to your denial, Peter?"_

"No! No, please don't do that!" Peter squeaked as he rushed over to the edge of the building and flung himself off. "What day is the Gala?" Butterflies flittered through his chest and into his stomach at the sensation of falling.

" _It would be this up coming saturday."_

"I...I guess I could ask May." Peter groaned softly as he threw out his wrist to launch a web. The sticky material grasped onto the side of a small red brick building. "Is Happy at home?" The teenager worried his lip between his teeth as his fingers grasped the side of the building. He was still a few floors down, but he hated going in through the window whenever Happy was home. The former body guard always over reacted whenever he would fall—which he undoubtedly did every time he tried to wriggle out of the damned suit.

" _Happy and May are currently watching a sitcom in the living room. Should I let him know you have returned?"_

"Please," Peter whispered as he eased the window up and slipped in. His feet landed deftly on the small carpet that May had strategically placed in front of the glass panel. She had quickly gotten tired of hearing him slam into the floor from the window. So, to save herself a headache, and several cases of heart jumping into throat, May had gone out and purchased a very soft rug.

It was only seconds later that Happy knocked on his door before entering. The man had decided many many weeks ago, when he and May had first started to bond over Downtown Abbey, that he would rather walk in on Peter naked than find out later he was hiding an injury.

"You good?" Happy arched his brow glancing the teenager over cautiously. There was no sign of any physical injury, but that was part of the kid's foray. He could tell Happy that the sky was orange, and for just a moment, the man would probably believe him. Peter just didn't have the face of a liar—good thing he was absolutely horrendous at it.

"No!" Peter rounded on the man, his hands flying into the air. "Mr. Stark invited us to his Gala!"

"Yes, and?" Happy sighed pinching the bridge of his nose. Who needed a tv drama when Peter was around.

"And!? What do we bring? What do we wear? Oh god, what if I say something stupid in front of someone important!?" Peter paced his spot hands flying around wildly, barely missing the bunk bed that was getting too small for his figure.

"Don't worry about it, kid." Happy waved his hand dismissively. "Boss just wants you, May, and your buddy there. Just show up."

"My buddy? You mean Ned?" Peter furrowed his brow in confusion. He didn't really know of anyone else that Tony knew he hung out with on a regular basis—which was rapidly becoming far more regular, and slightly more than just hanging out. But that was another topic completely.

"Yea, Ted." Happy scoffed leaning against the frame of the door. "Him. It's this Saturday. May already knows."

"Was I the last to know?" Peter rounded on Happy, his doe brown eyes wide with panic. "Why was I the last to know?"

"Peter, honey, relax. I've already gone to the market and got some ingredients. Ted is coming over Saturday morning and we'll bake a few goodies to bring with us." May winked at her nephew as her hands rested on Happy's shoulders. "So get to bed and forget about everything for now. Ok?"

"He's not staying the night...Right?" Peter glanced over at Happy as his hands wrung together. He didn't know how well he would be able to handle Happy waking him up in the morning. Any other night, it would probably be okay, slightly startling, but okay. Right now, though, his senses were dialed way up with the sudden invitation.

"He is, and you'll be okay with it!" May hummed, a grin stretching across her lips as she winked at her nephew before backing out. "Don't worry! I've made up the pull out couch!"

The audible sigh of relief that escaped Peter's lips did not go unheard.

* * *

"Oh my jesus," Peter whispered as he slid the brownies into the oven. They weren't quite the nice chocolaty brown that was on the box's front, but when had anything he baked been right? Besides, he still had several macaroons to try and fill up before pushing the small sandwich cookies together, on top of at least fifty cup cakes to ice.

"Dude," Ned whispered in awe as he stepped into the kitchen. "What have you...What on earth? You do know that Mr. Stark has professional caterers right?" The larger boy didn't have to attach the intended 'And you suck at baking', but Peter pretended that it wasn't there.

"I know, but it would be rude to show up without anything, ya know? I mean, he was really polite in inviting us over anyway...And we don't have a lot of money...So We have to do something, ya know?" Peter mumbled as he struggled to squish some more butter than cream icing into a ziploc bag corner. With a dull pair of scissors, he snipped off the tip in a larger hole than was necessary.

"I get it, but Peter..." Ned watched as the glob of goo landed directly on a lop sided cupcake. "How uh...How do you plan to even get this over there?"

"Happy has the Escalade today," Peter sighed icing another cupcake. The blob of supposed icing didn't even look appeasing, and he didn't exactly have time to taste them, but hey, who did when they were invited to the part of the year with the most popular and famous man in New York? Literally, all of the journals and papers were standing outside of the building snapping pictures of all of the guests that stepped out of their expensive cars.

"Oh," Ned nodded eyeing the monstrosities in front of him. He stepped closer to his friend and grabbed his arms. "Here, let me do that. Pretty sure your brownies are starting to burn." The amount of color that left Peter's face was startling as the brunette nearly leapt over the small island to grab the handle of the oven. A fond chuckled escaped his throat as he shook his head.

"Are you guys almost ready?" May questioned, stepping into the kitchen wearing a lovely black dress with lace accents. She was struggling to get an ear ring in. The older woman paused glancing around the kitchen and sighed heavily. "Oh Peter," She shook her head as her nephew tugged out the brownies—which were still gooey in the center.

"Everyone ready?" Happy stepped into the kitchen, messing with the cuff links on his suit. His eyes widened upon seeing all of the baked goods. He knew well enough from experience that they weren't exactly the safest to eat. After spending so much time around the Parker family and household, Happy's stomach knew the dangers. "No. Nope. No uh, no way." He shook his head glancing at the glob of supposed icing on the small cupcakes. "We are not bringing all of this. One dish. That's all you get to bring. He doesn't need a thousand cupcakes, or a bath of brownies, AND some of those...cookies? Those are cookies right?"

"I...but Happy!" Peter seized, eyes going large as he glanced up at the man.

"No but's, kid." Happy shook his head deciding that the cupcakes would be the least deadly of all the concoctions in the kitchen. "You can bring those. Half of them. That's it. Boss has plenty of catering at the party, and it'll still be polite of you to show up with anything."

"Oh dude," Ned chirped in as if just remembering something. "You can't forget the gift you got him. It's the Christmas Gala, man!" Ned grinned giving a thumbs up at Happy. The man sighed in relief and nodded his thanks as he moved to pack up the least lethal looking of the small cakes. "C'mon!" He grabbed his best friends arm and drug him up to the room.

"He's a good kid," May giggled quickly tossing a good chunk of the small pastries into the garbage. "I swear he doesn't mean to give anyone food poisoning."

"Hmm," Happy chuckled softly leaning over to peck May on the cheek. She flushed slightly, but giggled and shook her head leaning her shoulder into his chest. "He needs a baking class if this is going to keep up."

"Maybe you should ask Mr. Stark for your birthday...and his birthday….and any other day for his stomach's sake actually." May chuckled softly watching for the boys to come bounding back down the hall way.

"Ten bucks says something happens under the mistletoe tonight," Happy smirked crossing his arms as he leaned against the counter. May scoffed turning to the man looking apalled.

"Only ten!?"

* * *

The party was in full swing when the Parker group arrived. Ned was bouncing on the balls of his feet as he struggled to catch full view of everyone. Beside him, Peter was a nervous bundle of energy that clung to Ned's sleeve every chance he got.

"Hey kid," An overly confident voice called from the banquet table. Adults were gathered around chatting amicably, wine glasses held tightly in their hands as they moved about the open air roof top. "About time you showed up!" Tony smirked throwing his arms wide in a gesture of grandeur.

"H-hey Mr. Stark," Peter mumbled hugging the plate of cupcakes to his chest. Suddenly, it felt like Happy was right, and bringing the stupid cupcakes was a stupid idea. But honestly, he just wanted to be slightly useful to Mr. stark.

"The...Tony. Stark," Ned whispered beside Pete. Even though it had been close to a year, Ned still found himself in awe every time he was in the man's presence. There was just something about the billionaire playboy philanthropist turned super hero that made Ned's knee's quiver.

"In the flesh," Tony beamed as he threw an arm around the taller brunette. "What did ya bring kid? We have a whole table of food." Tony questioned glancing down at the tin foiled plate that, in everyone else's opinion, spelled doom.

"J-just….nothing." Peter mumbled heading towards the nearest trash can. What in the world he been thinking?

"What? No, let me see!" Tony snatched the plate from Pete's hands and ripped the tinfoil of.

In the man's defense, he did his best to hide the cringe at the ungodly sight of the smashed cupcakes.

"Aw...Pete...uh...Thanks." He grabbed one from the plate kinda staring it down. He thought of pressing the help button on the inside of his watch. It would alert Happy to any attack on the man, but Peter wouldn't mean it. He bit into the cupcake and was thoroughly surprised. The sweet flavor of chocolate and hazelnut swept over his tongue—impressively enough without the cupcake being brown. Seriously, this kid could concoct a web formula that could pull a titan to their knees, but he can't get a chocolate cake to look like chocolate? "Holy shit," He whispered staring down at the small cake before shoving the rest of it in his mouth.

Just across the patio, Happy groaned watching the scene as Tony went for a second cake.

"Hey, Pep….Is Med team on call tonight?"

"Huh? No...Why?"

"That's about to change," May whispered cupping her hand over her mouth as she giggled watching—happy that for once it wouldn't be her stomach suffering.


	4. Chapter 4

**The Tony Stark**

Peter rushed up the stairs of the compound. Friday had offered an elevator, but the amount of energy that just exuded from Peter was too much. If he had to be stuck in an elevator for a whole three minutes and twenty six seconds—and yes he timed it every time—then he would go crazy. Besides, running up hundreds of sets of stairs was a great way to get his cardio warm up in before going on patrol for the night.

"Mr. Stark!" He called as he rushed down the hall dodging the employee's that had long ago grown used to the boy that rushed through the building at any given moment. "Hey, Mr. Stark! Sorry I'm late!" Peter gasped rushing into the pent house. He threw his backpack over the couch, not paying much attention to the oomf that filtered out from the cushions. "Mr. Stark! You'll never believe my day! There was this little old lady tha-" Peter gave pause only when he came face to face with one Steve Rogers.

Like, The Steve Rogers.

Like the Steve Rogers that was currently a fugitive.

And the same Steve Rogers that had seriously Hurt Mr. Stark.

Peter's mind froze as he stared up in surprise at the man before him. Tony hadn't told him, or given any hints, that they would be back—like ever. As far as the teenager was concerned they were the past, and they didn't deserve to come back and sit in the lap of luxury. Not when there were so many others out there that really did deserve a spot on the team: namely Daredevil, and possibly Luke Cage. Both had been pretty cool the one or two times Peter had to work with them.

"Uh...Friday..." Peter stepped back as the bubble of anxiety and 'oh shit I just messed up' settled in his stomach. "What's...uh..."

"Hey kid! Friday said you were here," Tony hummed pushing just around Steve as if the super soldier didn't happen to exist—or ya know was at least four or five inches taller than him. "Sorry, I was in a phone call. Ready?"

"M-Mr. Stark...There's uh..." Peter pointed anxiously towards the man. His brow furrowed as Tony waved his hand, much like he would when swatting a fly. "Are..."

"Hello, Peter." Steve finally seemed to grasp his own voice. The man was probably in shock himself—to which Peter took minor pride. It wasn't everyday some kid strolled into the compound like he owned the place calling out for Tony. "I'm-"

"You're Steve Rogers," Peter nodded quickly glancing to his mentor for a read on the situation. Did they force themselves back into the compound? Or had Tony let them come back willingly?

"Yes..." The man chuckled leaning back a bit. Another face, popped over his shoulder; blonde curls framing an angular face with slightly angled eyes.

"I think you've broken him," Natasha sighed softly, eyes glancing up and down the teenager almost sympathetically.

"Nope," Peter shook his head glancing at Tony then groans. "Friday, pull up a tartlet recipe." Peter hummed shaking his head as he turned towards the kitchen, hands already moving to pull out some eggs and whatever fruit preserves Tony had hidden away. "Today is not a lab day."

"Hey, kid, no." Tony rushed over, putting stuff back in just as fast as Peter pulled it out. "Come on, talk to me. What's going through your head?"

"Nope. Literally, that's all. No, Mr. Stark." Peter glanced up and brushed a hand down his face. A slight redness had begun to creep in around the edges of his forehead, and the sclera of his eyes. He was quickly rising from a two to an eleven, and Tony could tell. The elder man raised his hands cautiously, and stepped away ushering the other two out of the room.

"Understood, Underoos. Just come get me when you're done. Aunt Hottie and Happy said you're all mine for the weekend. So we can take our time." Tony hummed watching the kid secretly as he rushed everyone out and essentially sealed off the kitchen. "You guys can't do that to him." He sighed crossing his arms once they were free of the spiderling. "He's kind of sensitive..."

"Why do you have a kid in the compound?" Steve frowned crossing his own arms. "It's dangerous here."

"I resent that statement. And believe it or not, Happy is dating his aunt, and I like the kid. He's smart, genius really. He can keep up." Tony flinched at the clanging that emitted from the kitchen, a hand instinctively moving to rest on his abdomen. The last time he had tried Peter's cooking, he had been impressed with the flavor. He had been less impressed, however, with how much time he had had to spend in the restroom to completely evacuate the cupcake.

"So you're a babysitter now, Stark?" Natasha's brows shot up to her hairline. Tony could feel the blush that crept over his cheeks, but the fond smile that settled to his lips gave him away. The widow's eyes narrowed slightly as she stepped back towards the kitchen to glance in.

Friday was currently calling out a list of ingredients while the brunette rushed around the room trying to gather them. His hands moved deftly, and without second thought—so he had been to the compound many times. However, in her research, Happy hadn't been with may for more than three months. Still plenty of time for Peter to learn where everything is, but not as well as he does.

"Please don't enter the kitchen at this time, Ms. Romanov," Friday hummed reminding the blonde of the barriers set up by Tony. "Peter is currently attempting to bake, and it would be for your own safety to avoid the area."

"My own..." Natasha glared, sparing another glance at Peter just in time to see a giant cloud of white smoke billow out from around his face. The teenager coughed into his hand and as he batted the cloud away. "Uh..."

"Kid, you're supposed to put it in the bowl, not snort it!" Tony called pinching the bridge of his nose. "How many times do you have to inhale the shit before it gets to you? And don't answer that! Rhetorical question!"

Peter's shoulder slumped and his head hung forward as if the world rested on them. They trembled slightly, as his hands reached for another ingredient located to his left—baking soda, Nat noted.

"C'mon, we can talk in the living room. Friday, pull up kitchen feed on the t.v." Tony sighed softly stepping out of the hallway and towards the large room just a few feet down. He collapsed on the large white sofa as his fingers grasped the tablet that rested on the coffee table. "Damnit kid," He muttered as he tapped at the screen. A fond smile crested his lips again as the home screen was slid away to reveal hidden applications. "I said no games."

"Tony," Steve frowned sitting across from Tony, shoulders hunched forward formally. "Why is a kid coming to the compound?"

"I told you, he's Happy's girlfriend's nephew. I babysit. And he's also my intern." Tony hummed tapping away at something on the screen. "Good kid. Really, he is."

"There's more to it, Stark. Fess up." Natasha growled lightly as she slid onto the sofa, one leg tucked under her; comfortable, but close enough that if she needed a weapon from inside of her boot she had quick access.

"Look," Tony started until the door of the compound hissed, sliding open again. The man groaned throwing his head back to glance towards the kitchen.

"Hey, kid!" Rhodey's voice buzzed from inside. "Bad day?" Tony sighed in relief, sparing a glance at the television before leveling out with Steve.

"You did not come here today in order to talk about my kid, right?" Tony growled softly, squaring his own shoulder's off. "We're here to talk about what your next step is, so that you can come home. All of you. So how about we focus on that?"

"You're hiding something," Natasha tested. "If we're going to be a team again, there can't be any hiding things."

"There will always be things to hide, Nat. For instance, you wouldn't want me running around the compound in the nude." A smug smirk found its way to the man's lips as the Widow blanked in response.

But she had learned long ago, some things just weren't worth responding to. And this was certainly turning out to be one of them.

"Fine," Steve sighed rubbing his own temples. "For now. But if we can come back, the kid can't come here. You understand that right? It would be far too dangerous for him to be around."

"Kid can handle his own. Besides, he needs help for his MIT application. I won't deny him that, not after I finally got him to think about it." Tony crossed his arms leaning back into the plush cushions. Some things, he really didn't want to budge on. But he understood their concern. They didn't know that Peter was enhanced, and that he was actually Spider-Man; the kid had begged him to keep it a secret, and Tony could understand why.

His eyes fluttered back up to Rhodey and his kid on the television. The older man was dipping his finger into whatever concoction Peter had come up with this time. The kid was getting better, slowly. Tony had a chef in once a month to help teach the kid how to cook, and it was starting to pay off. Still, though, Tony wouldn't be the one to dip his fingers into whatever Pete was trying to cook up. That was still very much a dangerous zone.

"Tony," Steve grunted resting his forearms on his knees. Clear blue eyes met dark brown ones. "I'm being serious. If we can come back, for his own sake, you can't let him around the compound."

"No can do," Tony shook his head standing up. "That's not a page I'll sign. Peter belongs here just as much as-" A screeching alarm interrupted his thoughts; scrambling whatever he was about to say in his mouth.

"Sir, it seems as though there has been a breach of security." Friday buzzed as plated doors began to slide down into place. "Going into lockdown mode."

"Mr. Stark," Peter called sliding into the living room with Rhode just as a grate slid close and locked into place. "What's going on?" The kid was covered in flour, and it looked as if an egg had exploded across his shirt.

"Not sure, kiddo." Tony jumped up to make his way over to the teenager. He could see just how overwhelmed Peter was becoming, and in partial, it was Tony's fault. He should have told him that Steve and the others were coming by to try and fix things. If Happy and May hadn't been down in Louisiana checking out Mardi Gras—and boy were they if the video's were anything to go by—the man probably wouldn't have even minutely remembered. "Friday?"

"Intruders with unknown weapons approaching from East bound, sir."

"Get the mark fifty-four ready for me," Tony hummed brushing a hand over Peter's hair and knocking four of it snorting. "Sit this one out kid. You might convince them you're a ghost with the amount of flour you're covered in." Rhodey snorted slightly, a soft smirk falling over his face. "I'm going to go check it out. I'll be right back, Rhodes sit with the kid."

"What? I did it last time!" Rhodey huffed starting after Tony.

"You also just tried his baking...raw. We don't need our own lawsuit when that kicks in."

"Hey!" Peter yelped, voice jumping several octaves. "I'm getting better!"


	5. Chapter 5

**Tony Starking Stark**

Patrol had not gone well; at all.

Not at all.

Peter simpered to himself as he slunk into the window of his best friend; Ned Leeds

After finding out that his best friend was the one and only Spider-Man, Ned had opted to leave his window unlocked. His mother had initially insisted that he kept it lock, but he was honest with himself. What person would climb up six sets of stairs in order to break into an apartment? If that were the case, why would they want to enter through a teenage boy's room? And they didn't exactly have much of anything of interest out. His neighbor's on the other hand. Ned had heard plenty about what kind of large screen T.V that they had, and he knew that they had far more money than what his family did.

Besides, if Peter needed to get in, there was probably a good reason for it. The arachnid vigilante didn't visit lightly; especially now that crime was starting to pick up due to the lack of school. Ned had noted, that lately, it had become harder and harder to spend some personal time with his best friend. He was often called off to Tony Stark's lab (which he could not hold him at fault for—because like come on!) or there was something going on locally that Peter just couldn't ignore.

He was too good for the world.

"Pete?" Ned whispered turning from the bright computer screen to stare at his best friend. "You okay?" The vigilante stumbled forward, hands reaching out, as if he was blind, fumbled along the wall towards the light.

"Eleven," Pete squeaked out shoving the light switch down; swallowing the room in darkness, with the exception of the soft glow from the computer. Ned could see, with the limited light, the way Peter's hands trembled as they clamped around his ears; the way his knees wobbled softly beneath him before giving out completely. "Eleven."

"Okay," Ned whispered rushing to grab a pillow. He was glad that he had decided to wear his cotton pants to bed and not the old pair of windbreakers that he often found himself in. "Ok, just focus on me, yeah?" Ned handed him the pillow to slip over his ears. It wouldn't make everything silent to his heightened senses, but it would certainly help.

Peter whined softly, rocking himself forward into his knees with the pillow curled over his head.

Ned pursed his lips, trying to decide what the next best move would be? He could cal Mr. Stark, but could this be considered an emergency? It wasn't exactly as if Peter was in some kind of physical danger. He wasn't about to die by falling from a bridge; or being dropped by a certain flying villain.

This wasn't something that the billionaire needed to be bothered with.

"What can I do to help?" Ned whispered easing closer to his friend. His hands reached out to rest on his knees in a form of comfort. "I need you to help me help you..."

"Hurts..." Peter whispered gripping the pillow around his head tighter. "Just...Silence for a few..."

Ned nodded softly, moving to shut the monitor of his computer off; bathing the room in a darkness that shouldn't have been possible in a city like New York. Then, he settled in beside his friend, and tugged him down so that Peter's head was resting on his lap.

They stayed like that for about two hours before Peter forced himself into a sitting position. His hands reached up to tug the mask off, revealing a mess of brown curls and a slightly bruised jaw line. Ned pursed his lips glancing along, checking the boy over for visible bruises. It was a habit that he wouldn't ever really admit to, but felt like he needed to in order to make sure that his friend was safe.

Softly, Ned began to card his fingers through Peter's hair as he stared at the dark ceiling. He hated feeling so helpless.

"Ned," Peter whispered curling tighter into a ball, pushing his head just slightly further into best friends abdomen. "Thanks..."

* * *

At about two thirty in the morning, Peter began to squirm. It started with a soft twitching in his feet, before moving up to the tips of his fingers.

"Feeling better?" Ned yawned heavily rubbing a fist over his exhausted eyes.

"I...Yeah man thanks." Peter smiled sitting up on his own. Finally, the world was back down to only being a three or four. His senses had settled, and the world was bearable again. "So...Uh...Sorry." The brunette mumbled placing his feet in front of him, with his knees tugged up to his chest. "I just...You were the closest."

"It's cool dude," Ned hummed softly watching the anxiety build in his friends face. "You okay, though? Do we need to go to the kitchen? My parents are out for the night, booked a hotel in New Jersey." He knew all about Peter's baking habit; it had been around since they were both about seven years old. Ned was pretty sure it formed after the whole Skip Wescott incident. But he would never ask; it wasn't something that needed assurance.

All the rotund boy knew, and felt like he needed to know, was that Peter loved to bake when he was stressed. It made him happy, and when he was happy, that was all the mattered.

"I...yeah please?" Peter sighed standing. His legs still trembled slightly beneath him, but he didn't falter as he made his way towards the door.

"Do you at least want to change out of the suit?" Ned chuckled softly moving to his dresser to pull out a pair of pajama pants and t-shirt that Peter had left from the sleep over before. It wasn't an uncommon occurrence for him to leave something behind.

"Yea...please." Peter sighed dragging a hand over his face as he tossed the mask to the side of the room. His hand crashed against the spider emblem on his chest, allowing the fabric to fall down around his ankle. A flush crept over Ned's cheeks as he averted his eyes, making sure to keep them on the dresser as he dug for the pants and shirt that were far too small for him.

He tossed the clothes towards Peter, his eyes cast down at the floor. It wasn't as if he hadn't seen Peter naked before—come on, two young boys grow up together, it's bound to happen by accident. And also, gym class shower. However, Ned had been dealing with his own feelings as of late, and found that whenever he was around a certain brunette, his heart stuttered in his chest, before it seemed to burst free. He had talked to MJ about it, his brows furrowed in confusion and frustration as he mentioned it.

MJ hadn't been too surprised by the fact that Ned had a crush on Peter; on the contrary she had expected it. She was surprised, however, to find out that he had never really acted upon it. MJ had apparently been under the assumption that the whole Liz debacle was only half of who Peter was—which to a certain extent was true.

"But," MJ had hummed, finger pressed to her chin as she glanced to the roof thoughtfully. "You're the only person to know all of Parker, aren't you?" She had glanced over at Ned and it was terrifying. She had read through him so easily that he hadn't been prepared for it. "So, maybe that's something to think about, ya know?"

And he had thought about it. A lot.

Like, a lot a lot.

"Ready?" Peter fidgeted with the hem of his t-shirt. It was still too big on his lanky frame, but everything that wasn't associated with Spider-Man was. It had to be. The entire school couldn't know what kind of guns he was packing under the over sized sweaters.

"Sure! What are we making?" Ned forced a smile as he made to grab his phone.

"No idea, dude. Just pick a recipe, and we'll see if we have everything."

* * *

That turned out to be a bad idea.

Apparently, Ned's family had several boxes of ready to bake items; to which Peter very much tried to add his own spin to. So now the chocolate chip cupcakes that all they had to do was add milk to, now had some cinnamon and whatever that chocolate looking stuff that his mother had bought a week ago was. Ned was pretty sure they were chocolate covered raisins, but he hated the freeze dried grapes so he never bothered to find out.

The 'just add water' cake had turned into a fondant mess—which, where did Peter even get marshmallows from? Ned was pretty sure he had never seen them in his pantry, but he wasn't going to complain. Also, none of the layers were level, and he was pretty sure the fondant didn't even go in between layers. But it made Peter happy, so why the hell not.

"Ned," Peter stopped, hands running under hot water in an attempt to wash a mixture of flour, cornstarch and some kind goo from his hands. "You okay? You haven't really said a whole lot tonight..." The teenager worried his lips between his teeth. Ned knew he was thinking of a way to help him, bless the vigilante.

"I'm fine." Ned sighed reaching over to help scrub the mess off. The more he contained the cementing mixture to one area, the less he had to clean up after it was all done.

"You sure? You can ta-"

Ned shoved his lips to Peter's. He hadn't initially planned for it; but life doesn't allow for the planning of everything.

Peter paused, as if taking the situation in. His eyes were wide; or at least Ned assumed they were. His were screwed shut in their own right. He didn't want to see if Peter was going to reject him; didn't want to see the disgust as Peter's lips moved back against Ned's softly at first then with a fire that Ned certainly hadn't expected.

"S-shit, I'm sorry." Ned whispered pulling away first. He hadn't really wanted the moment to end, but damnit, he had to give Peter time to take in the situation.

"Language," Peter whispered, his own grin finding its way to his face. "So...You kiss all the guys you bring here? Or?"

"Oh just..."Ned reached over and grabbed the faucet handle spraying the taller brunette in the face—effectively drenching him enough that he would have to change clothes. Not that Ned minded it too much.

The following day, Peter was on cloud nine as he rushed into the compound. A backpack was flung over his shoulder as he raced for the elevator and jabbed his finger into the button for the lab.

"Your dopamine levels are high," Friday's voice buzzed from the speaker located in the corner of the elevator. "You are happy."

"I am happy!" Peter whistled, rocking on the balls of his feet as he counted the floors to the basement. "I had something really good happen last night, and I got to bake!" He held up the brown bag that held all of the contents from the baking party the night before with Ned. Which turned into a whole different type of party after, but Peter wasn't inclined to think that far into the night while he was on his way to meet Tony.

"That is good," Friday sounded pleased herself as she rushed the elevator along. "Boss is waiting for you in the lab."

"Thanks Friday!" Peter buzzed as he rushed out of the elevator, his feet tapping against the floor as he damn near skipped. It had been a while since something good had happened; besides May and Happy. Because that certainly took a lot of adjusting too, and he was still surprised Mr. Stark hadn't known beforehand.

"Hey Kiddo," Tony glanced up from his desk, a fond smile working its way to his lips at the sight of the exuberant kid. "Friday said you had some goodies?"

"Do I ever Mr. Stark!" Peter chirped as he set the bag down in front of his mentor.

And if Tony noticed the excited way that Peter hummed as he started on his own set of projects, well he certainly didn't mention it. Just like Peter didn't mention the way that Tony watched him while he shoved a piece of cake into his mouth; a fatherly fondness rolling from his shoulders to rest over the atmosphere.


	6. Chapter 6

**The Stark-inator**

Tony sighed heavily as he watched footage from the Baby Monitor Protocol, live. The kid was off on his shots, barely attaching to buildings in time, and far too early in other shots. He pursed his lips, leaning forward on his arms as he glanced at the brick and mortar that passed with each dropping swoop.

"Where on earth are you going?" The brunette sighed brushing a black grease stained hand through his locks—not particularly caring if any of it stuck to him.

"That seems to be the address on file for one-" Friday was cut off as the kid slipped into a window, feet landing soundly as he ripped off the mask.

"Dude, door. You could knock." Ned's voice filtered in through the audio line.

"Spider-Man never knocks," Peter chirped back. Tony could imagine the cheeky grin that had graced the kid's lips. He'd seen if before when Peter was in a bouncy mood much like he is. The kid could spout off responses with so much confidence, that when he went back to normal Peter, it was painful to watch.

"You're right," Ned hummed, a lilt to his voice. "Your man in the chair does all the knocking."

Tony snorted, his own grin finding it's way to his face. If Peter and Pepper were his two absolute favorite people in the world, Ned Leeds was working his way up to third or fourth—given Rhodes and Happy are second. Then it would definitely be Bruce and Ned fighting for third. It just all depended on the type of mood Tony was in that day.

Speaking of moods.

"D-dude! Dude wait! I have to-" Oh boy. That was a noise. Well.

"Friday! End it! Turn it off!" Tony scrambled to shut the protocol down. "Holy sweet jesus," The amount of color that flooded into the inventor's cheeks was staggering—Tony didn't know he had that much blood in his body, nor did he think he'd ever be flustered like a teenager. "Oh, my god." Tony squeaked softly staring at the screen. "Delete. Delete that fucking day's file! The entire thing! Oh. My. God."

"It has been deleted, and completely erased sir." Friday's voice was almost a giggle. The AI was enjoying this far, far too much. "Your heart rate is rather high sir, should I send medical assistance?"

"No! No...Just...Give me a sec, Friday."

"Of course sir. It has been one second sir."

"I will shut you off, you sassy little thing!" Tony squawked out.

"Tony?" Steve's voice called through the door. Tony had nearly forgotten they were there; he tended to make himself scarce around the group as they had too many questions about the kid that had visited more and more frequently with the end of school. "You okay? Friday said your heart rate was high..."

"Oh my god," Tony whispered, glaring at both the camera for Friday, and the door that blocked Steve from view. "I'm fine! I am absolutely fine! Friday, call Happy!"

"Calling Happy." The phone rang loudly, as it attempted to connect the signal.

"Hey boss," Happy yawned softly brushing his hand over his head. Tony stared down at the face on his screen, his own eyes slightly bulging at the moment.

"Do you know where the kid is right now?" That flipped a switch. Happy jumped from slightly sleepy, resting his head on the back of the Parker couch, to on his feet and rushing towards the door. "No! No no, he's not in trouble. He's definitely...Not..."

"If he's not in trouble...then why?" Happy sighed shooting an annoyed glare towards his boss slash friend. "May is gonna be home any second, so hurry up."

"Did you know that Ned...and Pete? Are...ya know?" Tony poked his fingers together. Happy simply arched a brow at the motion and crossed his arms.

"Seriously? That's what you're calling about?" Happy groaned collapsing back onto the couch. His hand brushed over his face again as he huffed out a breath. "May and I have a bet going, to see who confesses first."

"Uh...Confess as in how? Because...they seemed to be pretty friendly just now!" Why was Tony the only one freaking out about the innocent kid losing his card? Why is that a thing? Why was no one else losing their minds? Because Tony's was definitely exploding at the moment!

"What do you mean?" Happy sighed, and Tony could imagine the way he was pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand. "Tony, he's being a teenager. Besides,were you listening in through the mask again? This kid is going to get a restraining order against you at this rate."

"His heart rate picked up while he was in the suit! In Stark technology! I got worried and had Friday check in on him! And and...Happy! You need to go pick the kid up, like yesterday! Like don't even knock, get over there and save my kid!" Tony's arms flailed animatedly around him as he paced the floor of the lab. The idea of Peter giving it up to someone had him in a ruckus; as Bucky would call it.

"Relax Tony," Happy grunted, rather delighted by the entire situation. "I'll go pick up the kid, jeez."

"You're picking up Peter?" May's voice echoed from the background. "Why? He's just with Ned!"

"May!" Tony called out turning towards the screen that Friday had pulled up with the call. "May, he is not just with Ned..." He stared at the woman through the screen. "He is WITH Ned. Like.."

"Oh," May's mouth smirked as she crossed her arms. "About time."

"What?!"

"Bye Tony!" Happy called cackling before the screen went black.

"Oh my god," Tony gaped, arms drooped by his side.

"Friday," He whispered glancing around the lab, slightly shocked. Even though he shouldn't be, Tony himself had been rather promiscuous at Peter's age, but the kid was different! He was pure, and light hearted! He wasn't even supposed to know what sex was! So why in the hell was he having it!?

"I have a favorited list boss," Friday's voice snickered around him. She was far too amused with the situation to find any reason to comfort his boss. "Of Peter's baking recipes if you would like to give them a go."

Tony could have shot a glare at the snarky response from his AI, but he couldn't really be bothered with it.

"I am not about to bake! That is...That's the kid's trope! I am.."

"You are stressed and currently over reacting boss. Should I alert anyone to let them know?"

"I...Whatever. Pull up a recipe," He muttered wiping his hands on grease stained denim before heading to the elevator. He still couldn't help the amount of shock that resided in his stomach from the call. He would have to talk to the kid about safety and everything later—but he didn't want to have to have that conversation at all.

"Creme Puff Pastry loading," Friday's voice snarked as the recipe pulled up on the screen of the television mounted in the kitchen. "Difficulty: Intermediate. You should be able to figure it out boss."

"You getting ready to bake?" A voice questioned from behind Tony, causing the inventor to jump in his own pants.

Tony turned on his heel, shooting a soft glare at none other than Steve Rogers. His lips were pursed in a self conscious manner as he glanced between Tony and the screen. The man looked as if he were ready to be reprimanded, and Tony couldn't really blame him. He hadn't exactly been kind since he had returned.

"I...Yea..." Tony sighed dragging a hand through his hair. "Wanna help?"

Steve smiled just a bit; just a small rise in the corner of his lips.

"Sure." He moved to grab the flour and measuring cups from the cupboards.

* * *

"Mr. Stark!" Peter called as he rushed into the dining area of the compound. His face was flushed as his feet skid to a halt in front of a lovely pile cream puffs that looked relatively freshly baked. "Mr. Stark, sorry I'm late!" He grabbed one of the small pastries shoving it into his mouth without a second thought.

And it was the worst decision of his life.

By far.

By far, by far.

There was a gritty texture to the cream, and the doughy part was definitely not fully cooked, and there was most definitely too much salt somewhere in the recipe. Peter scrunched his nose, before rushing over to the garbage can in the corner of the kitchen.

"Oh that is bad, that is really really bad. Where did Mr. Stark order those," He spitting the vile pastry out of his mouth.

"Mr. Stark is currently in his private room. I'll alert him that you are here Peter." Friday's voice echoed in the kitchen, leaving wanting for social interaction.

"Sweet, thanks Friday." Peter grabbed a water bottle from inside the fridge to rinse his mouth out before settling in the living room and tugging out a math book. He settled in to do the last few of the problems that he hadn't gotten to the night before.

"Hey kid," Tony hummed settling himself on the recliner across the living room. The fluffy towel he had used to dry his hair.

"Hey," Peter smiled, tucking his book away for later. "So what are we doing in the lab today?"

"We are going to have a very adult conversation first, actually." Tony grasped his hands together, leaning his forearms on his legs, and hunching his back. "About...uh...About some safety measures."

"Safety...measures..."Peter's brow furrowed softly as he cocked his head. "Okay...about what? Is there something wrong with the suit?"

"No kid," Tony shook his head licking his lips as he stared directly ahead. A bead of anxiety began to form in Peter's chest as he watched his mentor. Something was going on, and he wasn't sure how happy he was about it. "We need to have a conversation about when you love someone...And that love becomes physical."

All of the blood in Peter's body flooded straight to his cheeks. Tony had never seen the kid get so red; he was pretty sure it was actually fairly impossible. There was a tremble to his hands and shoulders that hadn't been there when they sat down.

"Oh my god, Mr. Stark," Peter squeaked out throwing his face into his hands exasperated. "Oh my god...No. We are not...no."

"Kid, I record everything in the suit and you and Ned….You weren't….ya know really discreet." Tony fidgeted anxiously. The inside of his cheek continually found its way between his teeth.

"Oh my god. I quit," Peter gasped glancing up mortified. Tony couldn't hold back the soft chuckle that escaped. "I quit. I'm not being Spider-Man anymore. Oh my god," He jumped up and reached for his backpack. Embarrassment flooded his bones, and oozed out of every breath he took. "I-I can't believe..."

"Calm down kid," Tony coughed to hide his amusement.

"So you're finally having sex," Steve walked in, a book in his hand and glasses barely on the bridge of his nose; Tony had paid him twenty dollars to use his PSA voice.


End file.
